


like real people do

by vikkyarvidsson



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: (kind of?), Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Slow Build, Song Lyrics, Song: Like Real People Do (Hozier), Stuffed Toys, Timeline What Timeline, aka tim is emotionally attached to his childhood stuffed animals, alternate universe - brady tkachuk plays in the DEL, and brady thinks it's cute, don't @ me I'm trying my best, no DEL fan @ me I know this is not tim's correct playing timeline, no srsly I gave up on a correct timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:53:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29835612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vikkyarvidsson/pseuds/vikkyarvidsson
Summary: also known asfour times brady tkachuk almost kissed tim stützle and the one time he did
Relationships: Tim Stützle/Brady Tkachuk
Comments: 5
Kudos: 58





	like real people do

_I had a thought, dear, however scary  
About that night, the bugs and the dirt  
Why were you digging? What did you bury  
Before those hands pulled me from the earth?_

i.

So maybe homecoming wasn't going exactly how Brady had planned.

Of course Matthew had a cute date, and his friends played football, so he was off doing God knows what, or better yet, doing God knows who. And if anyone was judging Matthew more than Brady right now, well, it probably _was_ God.

Brady wasn't a big football guy usually. He watched, pretended to enjoy it a little bit more than he did, but mostly for the conversational aspect of it. Football was a big thing in America, and being raised in a hockey household put him at a disadvantage. He was quite obviously biased. The least he could have gotten out of homecoming was a cute date, maybe a king nomination. But alas, he was just Brady, and not Matthew. There weren't many times where Brady envied his brother, because his brother was- well. He was. 

Maybe it wasn't so much that he wanted to be Matthew, because it wasn't as if Matthew was somehow cooler than him. Brady had plenty of friends. The problem was, as Brady had discovered, that he was a freshman. And it didn't matter how many friends he made with their hockey club; no one wanted to be seen hanging out with the freshman, especially not during homecoming. And as for his classmates, well, homecoming was geared more towards the upperclassmen, and it was just some dumb football game anyway, so most of them didn't show. So for one of the first times in history, Brady Tkachuk, life of the party, was quite pointedly not enjoying himself, or at any party. Both literally and metaphorically. Seriously, he couldn't even get invited to one of those stupid parties that everyone wanted Matthew at, and it wasn't like he could ask Matthew to let him tag along, because he was just his kid brother tonight, and not his brother, whom he grew up with (obviously), and loved very dearly, and also whom their parents said he owed a ride home to, because the game didn't end until 11, and they still didn't want Brady trying to walk it out on his own. But Matthew, the class act, didn't really care, and had probably even already left. 

Perfect. Tonight was perfect.

On the plus side, he didn't have his brother and his brother's stupid friends picking on him, which was always a positive, even in the shittiest of situations. 

The bleachers, however, were abysmal. By the time the 3rd quarter rolled around, right after halftime, they were littered with concession food that was beginning to smell, and sticky from all the spilled drinks, which Brady could only assume wasn't limited to soft drinks. People had started leaving the bleachers and either going behind them, standing along the grassed area to talk, or had left the sporting event all together. Some people were only there just to smoke, which was respectable in its own way, because at least they were in a group. 

There was one other kid on the bleachers that Brady knew, one who he doubted would turn him away, and that was Tim Stützle, latest hockey prodigy, billeting overseas to optimize his draft chances, or whatever. He played on Brady's team, but the kid was so quiet, he never really got to know him. Tim was younger than Brady, but apparently he was like, really smart, or whatever, and managed to test out so that he could compete with the high school kids. It was kind of pretentious, but Brady couldn't very well talk, considering he was a straight-C type of guy. He did the bear minimum and that was it. It wasn't like he was going to college, unlike Tim. 

But still, Brady couldn't sit through another period of silence, or else he might go try to make friends with the burnouts or something. So he did what he did best, which was start talking. "Hey, man," He offered coolly, running his hand over the seat beside Tim to make sure there was no liquid surprises waiting for his jeans. "Mind if I sit?" Which, yeah, he was going to anyway, so it was more like a warning than a question. 

"Do I have a choice?" Tim didn't look up; he was busy drawing something, but Brady couldn't quite tell what it was. Tim seemed to want to keep that part a secret. "But okay," He followed up quickly, sighing in a way that let Brady know that he was giving in, even if he didn't want to. Brady couldn't help but smile slyly. At least he wouldn't look like a totla loser, even if his only companion for the night was the weird German kid. 

"Watcha drawin'?" Brady asked, trying to peer over Tim's shoulder, to which Tim snapped his sketchbook shut immediately. "C'mon, is it tits or something?" And Brady was only half-joking, but he knew how crude boys could be, so he wouldn't have doubted it. 

"No, and it's not for you to see," Tim snapped in response, looking at Brady for the first time. "Nosy." And, yes, Brady was very nosy. Tim was going to have to get used to that, or else this was going to be a very long evening. 

Luckily for Tim, Brady was pretty easygoing, even when he was getting snapped at. "Kay. Well, you wanna get some food? I'm starving. I'll even pay, just because I'm nice." Pros of having a dad like Keith Tkachuk: the allowance is good.

Tim eyed the concessions line skeptically. "Long wait," He pointed out. 

Brady shook his head. "Not here, there's a Wendy's down the street," He stood up, offered a hand to Tim, and tugged a little but when Tim tentatively put his palm against Brady's. "C'mon, it'll be fun," He was sure Tim's billet parents probably didn't want him just wandering the streets, but he was with Brady, and Brady was plenty responsible. With a brother like Matthew, someone had to learn how to be. A pleased look washed over his face as well when he realized that Tim was going to comply. 

"I've never been to a Wendy's," Tim admitted as he shoved his sketchbook into his satchel, trailing behind Brady. Brady waited on him so that they could walk side by side, which Tim appeared grateful for, because judging by the way he kept his fists clenched around the strap of his bag, he was a little nervous. Brady assumed he didn't get out much. 

"It's fast food," Brady shrugged, hands shoved deep into his pockets. "You gotta dip your fries into your milkshake, though, it's like, a thing,"

"That sounds disgusting," Tim replied, face scrunched up to show the full range of his distaste. Brady laughed loudly at him, hand thrown over his stomach.

"I promise, it's not,"

They walked in silence for the remained of the time, and Brady couldn't help but think about how cool Tim seemed. Maybe it was the appeal of someone from a completely different country. Brady had met every hockey player imaginable- Crosby, Ovechkin, Malkin- any big name you could think of that was still living, Brady had probably met them. But he was more intrigued right now by Tim than anyone else. There was something charming about his personality, something mysterious even, that made Brady want to know more. He had about a million questions for Tim that he was going to bother him with over dinner until he answered him.

The bright lights of the Wendy's pulled Brady out of his thoughts, reminding him that they had arrived, and he smiled over at Tim as he opened the door for him. Tim stood in front of the menu, scrunching his nose. "I don't know what any of this says," He muttered to himself and- right. Yeah. Tim spoke English, and he was good at it, but fast food names didn't always make sense. Tim looked embarrassed, and if he were anyone else, Brady would have chirped the shit out of him, but his dad taught him better than to make fun of things like accents or English fluency. Brady sure as hell couldn't speak two languages, so it would be unfair to expect that of Tim. 

"Want a cheeseburger?" He asked casually, and Tim nodded, neck red. Brady nudged his shoulder and smiled at him, as kindly as he could, and then stepped up to the register to order. 

When he turned back, Tim seemed to have recovered, and Brady handed him his cup. "I don't drink soda," Tim informed him, to which Brady could only roll his eyes.

"Dude, come on, have some fun. I promise you, one soda won't kill you," And Tim still looked unsure, but he held his cup under the coke dispenser anyway, taking Brady's advice. "Look at you, what a rebel. I'm proud," Brady joked as they made their way over to their table. Tim slid in across from Brady, pulling out his sketchbook, and keeping it propped up between his legs and the table. Brady pouted, noticeably, at Tim not letting him see still. "Okay, well, I'm going to ask you a bunch of questions now, because I can. Where in Germany you from?" 

Tim glanced up at him, giving him a confused work. "Can you name one city in Germany?"

"Berlin," Brady replied, matter-of-factly. 

Tim rolled his eyes. "Everyone knows Berlin, that doesn't count."

"Then no," Brady admitted. "But you could tell me about it. Wherever you're from, I mean,"

"I was born in Viersen, but I played in Krefeld. I moved to Mannheim for hockey, but decided I should come to the states and try it out here. If there's no luck, though, maybe back to Mannheim." That was probably the most Tim had spoken to Brady all evening, and with the most enthusiasm. Brady realized it must be hard, thousands of miles away from home without your parents. 

"What's Viersen like?" Brady prompted, leaning his arms against the table to get closer to Tim. This time, he wasn't trying to catch a glimpse of what he was drawing, but he was leaning in to show that he was genuinely listening. 

Tim sighed, chewing on his lower lip. His eyes never left the paper, where Brady could see his pencil was gliding delicately across. "It's in NRW, a state in Germany, same as Krefeld. They're close together. Viersen is that capital of the district. I don't know, it's nice, I guess. I miss it,"

Brady nodded, and he was about to say something, but their food arrived. Tim eyed his frosty, then eyed his fries, and looked at Brady. "Try it," Brady encouraged, and so Tim did, and his face lit up. "See! It's good!"

Brady walked Tim home, and sat with him on his front porch for a moment. Tim could go in whenever he wanted, but there was something lingering. Brady hadn't laughed like this in a while, maybe ever, and Tim didn't seem to mind that Brady was talking his ear off all night and asking him annoying questions. And maybe Brady was desperate- well, he knew he was. But he wondered if Tim would mind if he kissed him. Just their little secret, no one had to know.

But as he went to turn his head and lean in, Tim turned too, and he got so spooked, he played it off immediately. "Oh, right, my drawing," Tim said, clearly not noticing how creepy Brady probably looked. 

"You don't have to-" But Tim was already ripping it out and folding it up. 

"For you," He insisted, shoving it towards Brady. Brady went to unfold it, but Tim slapped his hands. "Not now. Later," He instructed him, which Brady didn't quite understand, but he complied. 

"Okay, later," And that made Tim smile, so how could he break his promise? 

Tim stood up, this time being the one to pull Brady along with him. "I have to go," He announced the obvious, shifting his weight. "See you soon?" 

"Yeah," Brady nodded. Over dinner he had written his number on a napkin and passed it to Tim, for reasons. "For sure,"

"Text me when you're home?" Which was incredibly thoughtful but also old as shit of him to say.

Brady just laughed and shook his head. "I will, promise,"

Brady unfolded the drawing when he got home that night. It was a drawing of him. Smiling to himself, he taped it to his mirror, and he went to sleep thinking about the mysterious and sassy German boy.

_I will not ask you where you came from  
I will not ask and neither should you  
Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips  
We should just kiss like real people do_

ii.

Whenever Brady and Tim hung out, it was always at Tim's house. Brady's house was noisy, and he had too many siblings, and Keith would breath down their neck and make everything about hockey. Plus, Tim's billet mom was really nice, and Tim had a cool room. He had one of those billet moms that wanted to spoil Tim as if he were her real son,  
which Brady thought was sweet, but Tim seemed to find it embarrassing. 

There was another thing about Tim's billet mom- she didn't seem to get that Tim and Brady weren't dating. Which, in theory, that was fine, because at least she was supportive? But then there was the fact that she made some really strange jokes, or the way she once told Brady that she had always thought that Tim was a little "fruity", and he just had to nod like he understood. They had tried to explain to her that they weren't, like, _a thing_ , but the timing was never quite right, and something always happened, and now for months she's been telling her friend about "Timmy's cute little boyfriend". 

"Sorry about her," Tim offered as he closed his bedroom door, sighing in relief as he finally get her to stop talking about young love. "I've tried to tell her, I just-"

Brady waved his hand at him. "No worries, bro, we all know you'd date me anyway," Which was a joke, but judging by the way Tim turned a bright shade of red, making something darker than red, even, Brady got the sense that he took it like that. Opting not to read too much into it, Brady changed the conversation. "Anyway, wanna play COD?"

The two of them could get lost in a game for hours, round after round, never missing a beat, unless one of them had to piss, or if Tim's billet mom brought them snacks (she made them cute little snack trays, which was more than Chantel had done for Brady in recent years, and she even remembered Brady's favorite type of cheese, so that sure was something). There wasn't a lot of actual talking, more just screaming about the game, and every so often Tim would mutter something in German. But they never really talked about... _Stuff_. To Brady, it was enough to even just hang out with Tim and do something other than worry about hockey. 

It was the summer for them, so that meant the off season. Even though junior hockey wasn't supposed to feel like it had something as serious as an official off season, to guys like Tim and Brady, guys who lived, breathed, and ate hockey, it was that serious. So if Brady was going to treat it as such, if he wasn't in the gym (which Tim tagged along for too, and Brady didn't mind, because it was nice to watch him do pull-ups), he was at Tim's house. They had basically become joined at the hip since homecoming. Brady was more than a little disappointed that Tim had gotten enrolled in all honors classes, meanwhile he was just taking regular ones, so there was a lot less time together throughout the day. But Brady did maybe get Keith to pull some strings and get them the same lunch and study hall periods, excusing it as some hockey superstition chemistry thing, that was entirely essential if JV was going to make State this year, or whatever. Which was partially true- if Brady didn't get to see Tim, then he got moody, and if he got moody, then his hockey got bad. And everyone knows that the American public school system values sports above all else, so who were they to deny Keith Tkachuk?

Tim didn't have many friends in America, which was surprising, because he was probably the coolest person Brady had ever met. He was nice, and everyone really liked him, he just didn't make a point of being sociable. When Brady asked him one time, he shrugged, and just said there was no use getting attached to people if he was just going to go home to Germany soon anyway. Brady tried not to think about Tim having to go back across the sea. 

"Dude, you suck at this," Brady blurted out after a few rounds. Tim had heard it a thousand times by now, so he slapped Brady's arm and glared at him.

"Can't be any worse than you," Tim chirped back, smiling at him. Brady liked when Tim smiled, because his eyes crinkled up, and he looked like the happiest guy on earth. It was a nice change from the stoic hockey players they saw everyday. Tim and Brady had something in common with that: they liked to have fun. They were lighthearted, even at the worst of times. It was how they got through the day. One could say that they were two sides of the same coin. Tim was more responsible, more mature, but he could joke, and have fun, and let loose. Brady was just... A Tkachuk. There was no other way to describe the force of nature that he was. 

Brady leaned onto Tim slightly, just to nudge him, but didn't continue with the insults. "What's your mom cooking for dinner?" He asked instead, stomach growling to prove the necessity of the question. Brady could only survive off of so much cheese and crackers before his body demanded some real food. 

"Probably ordering out again," Tim shrugged. "Any requests?"

"Panda Express?"

Tim nodded immediately. Brady didn't mind Panda Express, it wasn't his favorite, but Tim liked it a lot, and there was nothing better than seeing Tim get excited about something. His entire face lit up and it was the most beautiful thing that Brady had ever seen. "I'll go ask," He turned off the XBox and stood up. "Put some music on or something, I'll be back,"

Brady scooted back on Tim's bed (they usually sat on the edge of it to play games, which Brady had told Tim couldn't be good for their eyes, but Tim seemed to like it), throwing off the mountain of ridiculous throw pillows, but he made sure the stuffed animals stayed. Tim had gotten really offended one time as he walked in right as Brady went to toss a little stuffed cow off, catching it mid-throw, and then informed him that the stuffed animals were to stay on the bed no matter what. Brady didn't really get it, but it was Tim's room, so. 

The cow seemed to be Tim's favorite, it always sat between his legs, or was tucked away under his arm, and it never left the bed. But aside from that, there was an otter, a dragon, and a lizard. Tim told him that Moritz had given him the lizard before Tim left for America. Tim had one of those stupid Polaroid walls, complete with the fairy lights and all, which had pictures of him and his friends on there. He had pointed them all out to Brady one night when he asked, and told him stories from back home. Moritz, otherwise known as Mo, was Tim's closest friend, Brady gathered; they texted almost daily, and called when time allowed. One night when Tim thought that Brady was asleep, he was whispering in German to someone over FaceTime, which a quick glance over his shoulder allowed Brady to figure out that it was Mo. Mo was a sweet boy with chin-length hair and a goofy smile, and he seemed to be the one to always look out for Tim. Even though Brady didn't know him, he appreciated him for that. Then there was Lukas, who was Tim's age. Lukas looked mean on the outside, but he was rather boyish, and didn't talk a lot. He seemed to just like to talk to Tim or Mo, but otherwise, he stayed in his shell. There were a few others, like JJ or Dominik, and then of course Brady was surprised to know that Tim knew, to some extent, Leon Draisaitl. But Tim liked Mo and Lukas the best, Brady assumed. He must have liked them a lot for them to be all over his wall. 

Brady's gaze cut away from the photos as Tim came back, smiling. "She said she'll order-" He cut himself off when he noticed what Brady had been staring at. "What's up?"

Brady shrugged. "Just thinking, I guess," 

Tim shuffled onto the bed next to him, placing the cow in his lap, and then leaned up against Brady. "You don't do a lot of that," Which made Brady laugh. "Maybe if you used your head more, you'd be half as good as me,"

Brady shook his head at him, jabbing him softly with his elbow. "Who made you so cocky, huh?"

"Learned from the best," Tim announced, shooting Brady a toothy grin. Brady smiled back, looking between Tim's lips and eyes, and decided, what the hell, and went to lean in. Tim didn't move, so Brady went slow, and just as he noticed Tim closing his eyes, the door shot open.

"They said it'll deliver in- Oh. _Oh!_ Well, I'll just... Food will be here in about an hour, until then... Be safe!" Tim's billet mom smiled awkwardly and waved at them, shutting the door behind her. Tim groaned, throwing a pillow over his face to hide. 

"Now she's really gonna think we're dating," Brady mumbled to himself. 

_I knew that look, dear: eyes always seeking  
Was there in someone that dug long ago  
So I will not ask you why you were creeping  
In some sad way, I already know_

iii.

When Brady said he hadn't really thought about the day that Tim was leaving, he meant it. Sophomore year was his last, and then he wanted to go back to Mannehim and play in the DEL. He had done some serious talking with his parents, who was ushering him to stay in America, go to college, something, but he wanted to go and play for Germany. And Brady could maybe understand that, like, if he were in Tim's shoes, he would want to do the same. Tim hadn't really seen his parents in almost two years, or any of his friends, and Mo would be playing with Mannheim before getting drafted, too, so he had a lot going for him over there. And Brady really, _really_ wanted to be happy for him. Really, he did. He was. But there was a part of him, a very selfish part, that wanted Tim to spontaneously change his mind. 

As Brady stood in the airport, pretending like he hadn't just slipped off to the bathroom to cry, he realized that Tim wasn't changing his mind. He was going home for sure, and Brady wouldn't see him until they were playing together again. He pushed his sleeve against his cheek to wipe away some tears, and his eyes began to sting under the bright florescent lights. He had cried the whole way there, and Keith gave him a firm talking-to about how guys leave all the time, and he would just have to get used to it. Chantel tried to remind Keith that Brady was 16 and his best friend was flying back home for the next 4 years until he got drafted again, but Keith wasn't having it. _"Look, Brady. What are you going to do when you get into the league and your buddy gets traded? Are you going to cry like a little girl, or are you going to wish him well and then beat his ass out on the ice?_. Brady had scowled and bit his tongue. He wasn't going to go say goodbye to Tim in a fowl mood. _But I'd never beat Tim's ass,_ he thought to himself. _I love Timmy, I'd never hurt him._

Love. 

Brady was still coming to terms with that. It was the first time he had ever thought it in the way that he did. 

He had told Tim that he loved him plenty of times, because it was true, but it was more like, in a bro way. You loved your team. You loved your line mates. That's how hockey was. If you didn't love those guys, if you wouldn't go to war with them, then you weren't playing the game right. But Brady had never thought about it like that. He had never really considered that he loved Tim _like that_. Which, considering he's tried (and failed) to kiss him twice now, he should have realized that a little bit sooner. One would have thought he would, at least. But no, he realized it on his way to this stupid airport to say goodbye to his stupid friend who was oblivious to two-plus years of pining. The worse part was that Tim would probably be none the wiser. 

The bathroom door opened and closed, and it was a busy airport, so Brady had no reason to think it would be Tim, right up until he saw the mop of dirty blond curls in the mirror. "You're really going to spend your last few minutes with me crying in a bathroom?" Tim snorted, leaning against the sink. 

"You say that like I'll never see you again," Brady mumbled, trying to smile at Tim, but it was weak and fell quickly. 

"Who knows, maybe you'll forget all about me and we'll never talk again. I'll be just another German prospect," 

"I could never forget you, Timmy," 

Tim's face fell and he gave Brady a serious look. "Come on, you're never this cold, what's wrong?" Tim had moved, shuffling closer so that he could wrap an arm around his friend. "It's not like it's the end of the world, you can still call me, and if I'm ever in America or you're ever in Germany, then, you know..."

Brady leaned into Tim, turning it into more of a hug than Tim probably intended it to be, and dropped his face to the crook of Tim's neck. "I love you," Brady informed him, as if it were something that Tim should have known all along. As if he were reminding Tim, rather than stating it. As if he had never been more sure of something in his life. And he wanted Tim to say it back; he wanted Tim to tell him that he knew, and that he loved him too, and that he was staying in America. But even Brady, someone who had a hard time with boundaries, knew that was asking too much. So he would refrain, leaving it at those three words, which were simultaneously so casual yet the most important words he had ever said in his life, right up to the very second they slipped out. He couldn't imagine that he'd ever say anything as honest and as justified ever again, because Brady wasn't sure of a lot, like how math worked or why it was important, or exactly just what the hell the ACT was meant to accomplish, or how the legal system worked, but he was sure that he loved Tim more than he'd ever love anyone else in his life, maybe even his own family. So if he was truly running the risk of never seeing Tim again, never being this close to him again (physically and emotionally), and them just becoming faces in a crowd to one another, then he wanted to announce the one thing that he was more sure of than anything else: that he was utterly in love with Tim Stützle. 

Tim didn't say anything at first, which scared Brady. It scared him a lot. Although he understood the gravity of it all, and understood that this could be his last chance, and that he probably missed that bus a long time ago anyway, he didn't want silence. A definitive "no" would have sufficed. So he pulled away, not making eye contact, and walked out of the bathroom. He didn't even offer so much as a goodbye. He just left.

Taryn was waiting outside, fiddling around on her phone. When she noticed him, she smiled. "Hey, did Tim catch up with you? I told him you were sulking in there," 

"Let's just go," He mumbled, deciding not to look back, no matter how much he wanted to. "Tim doesn't want to- I mean, I don't think we're going to make a big deal out of this." He couldn't offer any other explanation, just that. 

Taryn furrowed her brows, giving her brother a strange look. "Okay, you make a big deal out of _everything_ , why the change of heart?"

"I told Tim that I love him," Brady blurted out before he could stop himself, his big mouth getting the better of him.

His sister's eyes lit up. "That's great! What'd he say?"

"He didn't. I mean, I sort of walked out..." 

"You walked out after telling him you loved him?!?" Taryn shrieked, hand flying to her head. 

Just as Brady was about to respond, Tim's flight number was called over the intercom. Taryn shot up, grabbed his wrist, and dragged him towards the area where people went to get on their flights. "C'mon, if we're lucky, he'll still be there,"

And she was right. Although he was now hiding his face under the bill of a hat, Brady could tell who it was, even from behind. He froze in place, not even sure of what he would say. But Taryn, who was not unlike her brothers when it was called for, hollered out for Tim, getting his attention. When Tim turned back, he looked hopeful, like he was waiting on this. Or maybe Brady was imagining it, who's to say? Either way, Taryn nudged him towards Tim, encouraging him to keep walking. 

"I'm sorry," They both said at the same time, faces equally red. "You first," Tim started. 

Brady shook his head. "No, I'm just sorry I walked out on you, but before you go, if-"

Tim kissed Brady's cheek, and, yeah, Brady would have preferred the lips, but they were in public, and he was the son of Keith Tkachuk, and Tim was the next Leon Draisaitl, so maybe sucking face right here wouldn't be their finest moves. "Here," Tim reached into his bag and pulled out the cow. "Mr. Moo," He informed him, quite confidently. Brady was unaware that they had names.

" _Mr. Moo?_ " He asked, laughing. "Any name in the world, and you picked Mr. Moo?" 

Tim rolled his eyes. "Do you want something to remember me by or not? Because I won't hesitate to take it back, _Braeden_."

"Oooh, full name, low blow," Brady pulled Tim into a hug, hand gripped tightly around the cow- _Mr. Moo_. "You're cheesy,"

"I love you too," Tim muttered into Brady's shoulder, and Brady felt a breath escape him. It was a weight he wasn't fully aware he was holding, but when his shoulders dropped and his body suddenly became less tense, he realized that for two whole years he had been waiting to heart that. "I have to go, the flight attendant is glaring,"

"Call me when you land?" Brady choked out, not yet letting go.

"Only to make sure you haven't destroyed Mr. Moo," 

Tim walked towards the tunnel, but Brady wasn't finished. He wasn't exactly known for shutting up, so why start now. "Hey Tim?" He called out, smiling when Tim turned around, looking slightly annoyed. "If I'm ever in Germany, you think we'll finally be able to kiss uninterrupted?" 

Tim snorted. "You'd better hope it happens before you meet Mo,"

Maybe Brady would go and visit Tim in Germany. It's only fair. 

As he walked back to Taryn, smile on his face, he felt more hopeful about the future. "He loves me too," He announced as if he had something to prove. As if he wouldn't have competed for Tim's hand if that's what it took. Because Brady was like that; inconvenient yet dedicated. Except for when he's crying in an airport bathroom because he just had a sexual awakening. He might be a little less dedicated then, and a little bit more inconvenient. But hey, at the best of times, he was a solid mix of both, which made him just tolerable for guys like Tim. 

"Yeah, seems like everyone but you two already knew," Taryn wouldn't explain what she meant by that, even though Brady bugged her about it. 

_So I will not ask you where you came from  
I would not ask and neither would you  
Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips  
We should just kiss like real people do_

iv. 

This long distance bullshit was hard. 

It was sucky staying up until the early hours just to have a conversation with your boyfriend. Brady would trade anything, _anything_ , to be in Germany right now. 

What Tim didn't know is that was a bit more realistic than either of them had ever fantasized about. 

Everyone and their mother knew that Brady wasn't going to college. He wasn't college material, and even if he did, he didn't want a career path that wasn't hockey. He was going to play for as long as his body allowed him, and then maybe coach after that. Probably kids hockey, though. He thought about how nice it would be to coach his kid's team. He just wanted to build a career of nothing but hockey, all day, everyday, all the time. Not be some slummy business major and go off to be an analyst or some bullshit like that. So what was the point of wasting his time and money at a college when someone else who would much rather be there could have his seat anyway? 

So maybe Keith pulled a few more strings, like he was known to do. And maybe Brady was going to pull a Turcotte and play in the DEL. Maybe, just maybe, they had persuaded Mannheim to keep this under wraps until he could truly surprise Tim. And by surprise, he meant showing up at his doorstep. 

And there he was, gift bag in hand, standing on Tim's front porch, waiting on someone to answer. When Tim finally did, and he effectively dropped his bottle of water (thankfully the lid was on it), he took a minute to process, and then jumped into Brady's arms, just like Brady knew that he would. "You're here!" Tim's accent was thick, thicker than it was when he was still in America. He was speaking more German and less English now, and Brady was grateful, because the accent was cute. "But why? Don't you have a season to start worrying about?"

"Yep," Brady beamed at him. "Here, in Mannheim," 

Tim's jaw dropped. "Really? You'll play here now? With me?" He was practically vibrating, unable to sit still, and his hands had not left Brady's arms since he pulled away from the hug. "Where will you stay?"

"I have a hotel for now," Brady started, but Tim waved him off. 

"No, stay here," He ordered him, pulling him inside. "Mama, look who's here!" 

A woman, who had the same blonde hair as Tim did, stepped out of the kitchen, and smiled pleasantly. "Brady!" She said with confidence, which indicated that Tim had spent a lot of time talking about him. She said something in German to Tim, and Tim said something back, and Brady couldn't help but shift awkwardly from side to side, not knowing what was happening. 

"Mama said you can stay in our guest room, or my room, if you want," And Brady was pretty sure that his mother had _not_ suggested that Tim and Brady could share a room, but he was also pretty sure that she didn't know any English, or at least not enough to know what Tim had just said. "She's excited to meet you,"

Brady reached out to shake her hand, and she exclaimed something that sounded positive in German, and Tim looked please. She beckoned the two into the kitchen, where Brady could see that she was making eggs. 

It was then that Brady remembered the gift bag, so he set it down on the table and passed it to Tim. It was large, and was stuffed to the brim with paper (Taryn's doing, Brady couldn't figure out how to make it go in and look nice without it popping right back out, or accidentally poking holes in it). The first thing that Tim pulled out was Mr. Moo, which earned Brady a frown. "But I gave this to you-"

"Keep looking, asshole,"

Tim pulled out another stuffed animal, a Build-A-Bear, to be exact, with a little _"squeeze me!"_ tag on it. When he did, Brady's voice rang out. It was a simple "I love you", but it was sincere, and it made Tim happy. 

"I figured, if we find the time, I could get one, just with your voice in it," Brady wasn't really a stuffed animal type of guy, but if he could hear Tim tell him he loved him whenever he was sad, then hey, he'd take it. Plus it seemed to mean a lot to Tim. 

Tim squeezed it again, just to hear it, and a few tears escaped his eyes. "I love it," He whispered, hands still running through the soft fur. "So thoughtful,"

Brady went to lean in for a kiss, hoping that now would be the perfect time, but instead a plate was sat down in front of him, full of eggs. Right. They weren't alone. Even though he was dying inside a little bit, after having tried to kiss this boy for the last, like, four years, and never getting the opportunity, he didn't want to make a bad impression right off the bat. There would be other times. That's what he told himself, at least.

_I could not ask you where you came from  
I could not ask and neither could you  
Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips  
We could just kiss like real people do_

v. 

As much as Tim and Brady despised it, relationships were on the back burner during the season. It was all hockey, all the time. When they came home, they were tired, and mostly just went straight to bed. There was a lot of cuddling, and a lot of cute little dates, but still no kiss. Brady couldn't understand how guys would complain about not getting their dick sucked on the first date when he couldn't even get one stupid kiss in _four fucking years_. At this point, he was just trying to get it out of the way. 

But then draft day for Brady rolled around, and suddenly, he and Tim still hadn't kissed. He didn't think it was possible to go this fucking long without it. But, then again, they spent more time focusing on building their careers than they did building their relationship. And that wasn't to say that their relationship wasn't going well, because it was going fine, thank you very much. It was just that, well, they hadn't really had the time or energy to be more serious than they had been when they left off. It was more like... Bros who had feels for each other, or whatever. And Brady didn't mind that, except for the part where he was madly in love with Tim and wanted more than anything to be his first everything. First date (check), first boyfriend (check), first long-term relationship (check), first kiss (to be determined), first time (haven't got there yet). He wanted to do everything just right for Tim, because Tim deserved it. 

Suddenly they were in Texas together, laying in Brady's hotel bed, sweating in the Dallas heat. Brady wondered where he would go. He had a pretty good idea, but at the same time, not really. 

"Just two more years 'til I join you," Tim pointed out, and neither of them had really said that yet, because two years felt both so close and so far away. 

"Everything changes today," Brady replied, sighing with anticipation. "Superstition says I shouldn't be talking to you right now."

"Superstition says you shouldn't be talking to your _girlfriend_ right now," Tim pointed out, turning on his side to look at Brady. 

Brady smirked at him. "Girlfriend, boyfriend, same thing," 

Tim propped himself up on his elbow, reaching down to play with Brady's curls. "I'm going to miss you," Tim confessed, fingers twirling the blond locks beneath them. 

"What happened to 'just two more years', huh?" 

Tim sighed and collapsed back down, rolling over to rest his head on Brady's chest. "You leave this year, then Mo next year. I'll be all alone," He almost sounded pitiful enough to make Brady decide to play another year in Mannheim, just to save Tim from boredom. 

"So Lukas is chopped liver?"

Tim huffed. "He's all the way in Berlin," He whined in response, digging his chin into Brady's shoulder. "But fine, I'll have one person, in a completely different city,"

"You're so needy," It was true, Tim was probably the neediest person on the face of this earth. He needed stuffed animals in his bed, he needed Brady to stay with him in Mannheim, he needed constant physical contact, he needed people to not watch him while he drew, and he needed constant validation. Brady loved all of those things, and would happily do what he could. 

Brady's phone rang, so he picked it up. "Yeah, I'm on my way," He replied to his mother, who wanted to get there an hour earlier than necessary. Brady was annoyed to find out that they weren't going to allow Tim to sit with them, but Tim assured him that he'd be here when Brady got out, and he will have watched the whole thing on TV. 

Brady had been in dress pants and an undershirt for a while, trying to prevent wrinkling his nice dress shirt or blazer, or even worse, getting them sweaty. And as he slipped into the rest of his suit, he couldn't help but notice Tim watching. "Take a picture," Brady teased. "It'll last longer." He tied his neck tie, letting it fall against his chest, and smiled at Tim. "At least I know I look good," 

Tim stood up, silently stepping closer to Brady in order to fill the gap. He tugged on Brady's tie, and Brady knew what he wanted, because he wanted it, too. So Brady grabbed Tim's face, leaned in, and prayed the door was locked. After four years of waiting, four years of interruptions, and four years of desperation, Brady finally managed to kiss the boy of his dreams, and nothing had ever felt so sweet. Nothing had ever tasted so good. For the first time ever, Brady felt like this whole thing was real, and not just some fever dream. He hadn't dreamed up meeting the cute German kid and slowly falling in love with him; that was real, and now they were kissing, and Brady had a draft to get to.


End file.
